


Sundae

by zulu



Category: House M.D.
Genre: F/M, Sexual Fantasy, for:gileonnen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-10
Updated: 2009-03-10
Packaged: 2017-10-02 10:07:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zulu/pseuds/zulu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Foreman and Thirteen discuss toppings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sundae

**Author's Note:**

> For Gileonnen, for my [DRABBLERAMA: Road Trip Edition challenge](http://queenzulu.livejournal.com/407891.html).

**Sundae**

"Why _did_ you go for his nipples?"

Foreman raises his head, which isn't exactly what Remy hoped would happen, but the direction his mouth was heading had...brought it to mind. "Uh, is right now really the best time to go into that?"

"I'm sorry. You're wonderful. Feel free to keep going." Dry sarcasm seems to work on him as well as sincerity, and Remy lets her head fall back to the pillow. She curves her hand around the back of his head, but she can't help frowning up at the ceiling. She's turned on, but she's also curious, and for that, she blames House. No sooner does she feel the brush of Foreman's goatee and the soft touch of his lips on her breast, the question bursts out again. "But seriously, his _nipples_?"

Foreman rolls his eyes and pushes himself up on his elbows. He sets his lips in an infuriating little pout that means he's about to be completely dismissive. "It was a medical procedure--"

Annoyed, Remy wriggles underneath his weight, wrinkling her nose. She's familiar enough with his technique by now that it's just as comfortable to argue as to keep kissing. "Oh, it was _not_. You could have slapped him--"

"Maybe I was thinking about getting him breathing and not about what you'd think of my resuscitation techniques!"

"You grabbed his nipples and you were only thinking about getting him breathing? God, how straight _are_ you?"

With a sigh, Foreman rolls off her completely. "_Very_," he grits out. "Are we stopping?"

"You're getting defensive." Remy takes the chance to roll on top of him in her turn--a view she _knows_ he likes. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, letting the rest fall to brush against his chest--which she _also_ knows he likes. "Rocky Road is great," she says, leaning down to kiss him. Foreman's mouth is warm and smug, and Remy kind of likes that, how he thinks she's going to drop the subject. She pulls back, running the pad of her thumb across his lips, letting him kiss it. "Rocky Road is--mm--amazing. But you know...you can put toppings on it. Marshmallows."

Foreman stares at her, his eyes widening incredulously. "Are you calling _House_ a marshmallow?"

"No--" If she wiggles closer, she can nearly pin him down, or at least stop him from bucking her off. It's not like she wants to _stop_. They've already gone too far for that, and Remy knows no matter how much Foreman complains, he's not going to walk away.

Foreman shakes his head, his chin dropping. The pout is definitely here to stay. "You could have gone with anything else. Walnuts. Toxic nuclear waste."

Remy smirks down at him. "I don't want nuclear waste on my sundae."

"It sounds a lot like you do." Foreman grabs her arms and firmly pushes her off, setting her on her own side of the bed.

Remy laughs out loud. "I can't believe you! Have you ever had a threesome before?"

"Yes." Foreman's voice is tight, but also smug.

"God, you're arrogant. With two women, right?"

"Uh, _yeah_." Foreman starts to sit up--definitely the wrong direction, and Remy pounces on him again.

"Stop it," she says. She sneaks a hand down his stomach and touches him. He was already hard, and like _every guy ever_, start touching his dick and suddenly he's a lot more interested in what she has to say. Remy doesn't mind using that. Or kissing him _while_ she's using that. "You wouldn't have to touch him," she says slyly, pulling away from the kiss .

"_Remy_."

"Ha!"

"What?"

"The way you say my name. Like if you don't call me _Thirteen_ it means we're in a _relationship_ and I have to listen to you."

"I'm _not_ sleeping with House. Could we _drop it_?"

"Mmm...no." This is a lot of fun. Foreman's great in bed, sure, but he also knows it, which sometimes isn't as endearing as he seems to think. Remy likes that he'll go down on her until she comes, more than once--hell, she _loves_ it--and fucking him, when she's on top, watching his eyes slide half-shut, his hands gripping her hips warm and tight, is incredibly hot. But he's always so self-possessed. Even mid-orgasm, he's enjoying it because _she's_ enjoying it. And actually, Remy would really like to see something different. Foreman uncertain or uncomfortable is hard to picture, but put House _in_ the picture, and there it is.

"So, what? I'd sit in the corner and watch the two of you?" Foreman lifts up, his abs flexing, and starts kissing her again, trying to convince her he's right and she's wrong. Which isn't a change, so Remy enjoys the touch and ignores the intent. "Not exactly my idea of a good time."

He's definitely starting to crack. Remy reaches for the condom they'd set aside and rolls it onto him. She wants to straddle him, and she nudges his hip to let him know. He's not fighting her anymore, and he lets her crawl on top of him. They're talking about House while she lowers herself onto him, while he's holding his erection and guiding himself into her. Whether Foreman knows it or not, he's already considering it, otherwise he'd be trying harder to shut her up. "I'm not doing this for _me_." Remy considers, lets her body adjust to him. She'll reach down and start touching herself soon. Just a minute longer, feeling him fill her. God. "Maybe--he'd leave us alone," she says. "Maybe he wouldn't care if we were together..."

"If he got to _watch_." Foreman punctuates that with his first hard thrust, and Remy gasps.

Yeah. If House was watching this, Remy doesn't think he'd ever get in their way. Never want them to stop. She can picture it--his mouth hanging open, his eyes wide and startled, trying frantically as a teenager to hide the hard-on in his jeans. Trying to run his mouth off and failing.

Foreman's voice is just a bit rougher, strained. Maybe he's picturing it too. "You think _I_ want to have sex with House?"

"Mm." Thinking about it, well. It's not a _bad_ idea. House would be infuriating, but Remy thinks she knows more than enough ways to shut him up. And if Foreman wanted to help... "You could..." She rolls her hips, and Foreman's fingers find her clit and start rubbing. "_Oh_. You could...fuck him. Make him--shut up."

Foreman lifts up again, almost in time with her words, and Remy knows she's got him. _Nobody_ is _that_ straight, and she thinks she just found where Foreman's line blurs. "You could fuck him, and then...do me...show him..." There are more words in there somewhere, about just how smug Foreman is, likes to be, how it would suit his ego to fuck House senseless and then to bring her off as well, but Remy can't form the thoughts, because Foreman's thrusting harder, rubbing her clit, and her orgasm pools hot and insistent low in her stomach, and then she's coming, moving desperately when she feels him losing control as well, the pleasure lasting until they're both more than satisfied.

"God," Remy says, collapsing on top of him. "I'm asking him tomorrow."

"No," Foreman mutters, underneath her. "You're not."

Remy only smiles, and knows he doesn't really mean it.

_end_


End file.
